Wings of Gold
by Breakaway25
Summary: In 1941 the US found itself embroiled in a war like no other. A war which was fought on two fronts. While Sarge was fighting in Europe a another battle was taking place in the Pacific. From the Coral Sea to the Solomon Islands, this is the story of the war in the Pacific, told through the world of Cars. Please Read & Review
1. Chapter 1

**26, November, 1941, _USS Enterprise_(CV-6), Pearl Harbor, Oahu Hawaii **

Commander Lucas Felts sat on the flight deck of the _Enterprise _watching a few of the new recruits have a little fun. The two Aviation Machinist Mate 3rd classes who had somehow managed to get ahold of several gallons of paint and were now attempting to paint one of Felt's lieutenants a bright shade of pink. The twin forklifts had sneaked up beside the snoozing plane and proceeded to pour the contents of the paint drum all over the poor plane. Felts cleared his throat, trying to get the attention of the forklifts. One of them turned to see who was behind them, and, seeing Commander Felts, nudged his buddy and made a run for it. The second forklift didn't understand his buddy's intent and stayed were he was. "You know I don't think that Lieutenant Miller will appreciate that," Felts said, softly. On hearing Felt's voice the forklift spun around, saw who was speaking, and proceeded to follow his buddy back into the ship.

Commander Felts chuckled at their antics, and went over to see the extent of the damage they had caused. They had barely started to paint the unfortunate F4F, and only portions of his wings were pink. Felts nudged the sleeping lieutenant awake, and proceed to explain what had happened. Blushing, the Wildcat went to find some blue paint to restore his original color.

This was one of the many situations that Felts had to deal with as the commander of the _Enterprise_'s air group. He had to keep the planes under him from getting into to much trouble. They seemed to have a pension for carousing in Oahu's many Navy bars, getting a little soused then becoming involved in an altercation with either the local Marine aviators or the occasional Army Air Corps bomber. "I don't know what's worse. The fact that they keep getting into these fights, or that they always seem to be black and blue, while the offending leatherneck comes out completely unscathed," he thought to himself, chuckling. Over the last two months he had "rescued" six of his fliers from the Pearl Harbor brig for everything from drunk and disorderly charges to striking a fellow officer. The worst offense, however, was one time when one of the Wildcat's had gotten ahold of some belted .50 caliber ammunition and had proceed to shoot at the sign outside of the Marine Corps Ewa field. He had to personally apologize to Colonel Clyde W. Dawkins, the commander of MAG-11, the following day.

"They seem to come up with crazier stunts the longer we sit in Pearl." Felts turned to see Captain George D. Murray, the commanding officer of the _Enterprise_.

"Yes sir, they do," he replied, chuckling.

"I seem to remember a young ensign, fresh out of Annapolis, who decided that the best way to get back at another young ensign, for some unmentioned prank, was to tie him to a cable, and lower him off the stern rail," Captain Murray commented.

"I remember those days fondly sir," Felts replied.

"Oh, that reminds me commander, are your squadrons fit for duty," Murray asked.

"Sir, we have a full complement of aircraft, minus the one Wildcat in the Pearl Harbor Brig."

"Very well then. I need you to make room for several elements of VMF-211, say 17 or so Wildcats," Murray ordered.

"I could do it sir, but it'll be a tight fit, sir," Felts replied.

"We need to be ready by the 28th, I just got word that they want us to take 211 to Wake," Murray said.

"I'll go pick pick up our resident jailbird. Do you know that Clyde Dawkins is still on my tail about that."

"One must do everything in ones power to further Navy-Marine relations commander," Murray said.

"I'll do my best Captain," Felts laughed.

**7, December, 1941, _USS Enterprise_(CV-6)**

"Bridge, port lookout, are they doing live fire exercises in Pearl," called one of the lookouts.

"Port lookout, bridge, repeat please," replied the bridge talker.

"Port lookout reports seeing smoke on the horizon on the bearing of Pearl Harbor."

"Port lookout, bridge, standby please."

"Sir,this came in from Pearl," said a radioman as he gave a sheet of paper to Captain Murray. The paper simply read, "To any US ship, the Japs are attacking Pearl."

"Felts, who's in the air right now," Murray asked Commander Felts.

"Sir, VS-6 went ahead to Pearl. They consist of six SBD-3 Dauntlesses," Felts replied.

"I want you to get a force of Wildcats into the air, yesterday," Murray ordered.

"Yes, sir." Ten minutes later four wildcats were sitting on the flight deck waiting to take off. When the signal was given they roared into the air, trying to make it to Pearl as fast as they could. When they got close to the naval base they could see the extent of the damage. Several of the large battleships were on fire or sinking, and Japanese planes flitted about bombing and strafing anything that moved. "Stay sharp everybody. Engage targets of opportunity but don't try to be a hero. I want everyone to live though this. Alright go get em," ordered Commander Felts, who was leading the group. The Wildcats waggled their wings in acknowledgment and broke formation to chase the attacking Japanese. Felts immediately spotted a single Zero fighter below him. He flipped over and dove on the plane. When he was in range he opened up with his four .50cal Browning machine guns. The opposing plane sparkled with impacting tracer rounds, then burst into flames. "That was too easy," he thought, "He must have be damaged by triple-A fire."

A line of tracers flew by his wing. He instinctively threw his rudder to the right. The attacking plane overshot, then went into a sharp left bank. It was another Zero, but this one had a white scarf tied around his cockpit. Felts followed the Zero into its bank. The Zero reversed his turn, and Felts matched it. The Zero was trying to use its maneuverability advantage to out turn the single Wildcat, but Felts was to close. He opened up with his guns, and the Zero's engine died, sending the plane plunging to the sea below. He was suddenly struck by something from below, causing his engine to backfire. When he looked down he saw two Jeeps with a 20mm Orlikon anti-aircraft cannon. He screamed at them, "Don't shoot, I'm an American you dolts." The two jeeps, realizing their mistake, waved in apology. Felts growled at the Jeeps, and turned to continue the fight.

When the day was over the sheer volume of the US losses came to light. Of the ships in the harbor the _Arizona _was a total loss, and the _Oklahoma _had completely capsized, trapping at least forty cars inside. The _California _and the _Nevada_ had sunk in shallow water, and it was determined later that they were salvageable. The _West Virginia _broken her moorings and made a run for the channel after the first wave, but she had been caught by the second wave and had beached herself on a sandbar to prevent sinking. Three other battleships, three cruisers, and three destroyers had also been damaged. Over one hundred and eighty aircraft had been destroyed on nearby Ford Island NAS, Hickam field AAC, and Ewa Marine air field.

The Japanese lost no more than sixty planes. Of which five were shot down by planes from _Enterprise_, four by Wildcats and one by a lucky shot from an SBD. The _Enterprise_'s losses totaled six planes, five SBD's, of which one had been destroyed by friendly fire, and one Wildcat. Felts had been damaged further during the attack, and was forced to set down on the burning Ford Island NAS.

The following day President Franklin Delano Roosevelt issued this statement to the public, "December seventh, nineteen forty-one. A date which will live in, infamy. The United stated was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan." Two days later Germany and Italy declared war on the United States, hoping to force the Soviet Union to return the favor and declare war on Japan. The United States was now at war, a war who stretched from ocean to ocean, and bathed the world in a maelstrom of fire.

**A/N: **I decided to rewrite this story for two reasons. The first being that in the original idea for the story Riesling is not the only main character, and his story was only really supposed to be a subplot. The second being that Riesling is a F6F Hellcat, an aircraft that didn't appear in the US's armory until, at the earliest, 1943. I wanted him to be a Hellcat for personal reasons, and it was just to confusing to have a Hellcat in 1941. Don't worry he'll be back in later chapters.

Also note that this story and my other story are based on real events and people of WWII. But be warned that I may get some details wrong, so please don't jump on me if I mess up a name or a unit designation. As always Read & Review.

This chapter brought to you from the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis Md (I'm just a candidate visiting not a Midshipman, yet)


	2. Chapter 2

**_USS Enterprise_, 18, April, 1942**

Lieutenant John Morley sat on the flight deck of the _Enterprise _staring at the ship not two hundred yards off the port rail. There sat the _USS Hornet _another _Yorktown _class aircraft carrier. What was odd was not the ship itself, it was what the ship was carrying. Sitting on the deck were sixteen Army Air Forces B-25 Mitchell medium bombers. And if Morley wasn't mistaken the bomber in the lead position was none other than Colonel Jimmy Doolittle. Morley had watched Doolittle's exploits when he had competed in the national air races, he was one of Morley's heroes. But what Morley couldn't figure out was why he and sixteen other bombers were sitting on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific. "Would you believe that those bombers are on their way to Tokyo," Morley turned to see Commander Felts behind him.

"But sir, how," he asked.

"Doolittle claims that the bombers can take off, off of the deck."

"But the B-25 is to heavy to operate off of a carrier deck."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," said Felts.

_**USS Hornet**_**,****0755**

First Lieutenant Charles More was anxious. He was supposed to take off of this, this floating postage stamp. Oh, sure he had trained with a runway that had been marked off with the right distance, but now that he was here on a ship that was floating in the middle of nowhere miles from any form of civilization, he was, anxious. Colonel Doolittle was a good plane and one of the best fliers, ever, and if he said it could be done then it probably could be done easily.

Everything appeared to be going smoothly, but then the cruiser _Nashville _pulled away from the formation. "What is he doing," More thought. The cruiser continued on its heading for a minute, then More could see the problem. In front of the cruiser was a small fishing boat that More hadn't even noticed before. Before he could figure out what was going on the cruiser opened fire, destroying the boat with a single salvo. More had been to focused on the cruiser that he hadn't noticed the _Hornet_'s captain had come up to Colonel Doolittle.

A minute later Doolittle called, "Everybody get ready, we're going now." The bombers on the flight deck tensed with apprehension. The plane's gunners, the little forklifts that seemed to hold most of the technical jobs on board this ship, made their ways to their respective planes. When they had climbed aboard their partners Doolittle called, "All right, I'll go first. You lot, for goodness sakes, just do what I do."

He fired his engines and slowly ran them up to full power. He dropped his flaps, let go of his wheel brakes, and began rolling down the rolling deck. It appeared that he was not going to make it as he dropped off of the end of the ship, but moments later he appeared above the flight deck. Two more bombers mirrored his trick and began to peel away from the ship. Now it was More's turn. He ran up his engines, dropped his flaps, cut his wheel brakes, and was immediately sent barreling down the deck. There wasn't enough space, he was going to fall off the deck into the sea. The deck's threshold got closer and closer, and at the last second he felt his wheels leave the ground. He had done it, he had successfully taken off from the deck of an aircraft carrier. There was no time to celebrate, Doolittle was waiting for the bombers to gain altitude and then form up.

**Off Tokyo, 1233**

He could see it now. Tokyo, Japan's capital city, was less than five miles away. He had been worried for the last hour that he wouldn't have the fuel needed to make it to the designated landing sight in China but the bombers had caught a strong tailwind that had shaved hours off the trip. "Alright stay sharp now. We don't know what to expect, so stay on your wingtips," Doolittle called over the radio. "Split into your wing pairs and hit your designated targets. I'll see you in China." More peeled away from the formation angling towards his assigned target, a set of ail storage tanks. The raid had apparently achieved complete surprise; there were no planes in the sky, there wasn't even a hint enemy anti-aircraft fire. The bombers moved towards their intended targets.

The Japanese had boasted that their "home islands" were completely impervious to attack. They assumed that any attempt to bomb the islands would be turned back by the _kamikaze _or "divine wind". The attack by the US bombers served to deflate Japan's claims, and prove that Japan wasn't as invincible as she claimed. While the raid did little damage to the cities of Tokyo, Yokohama, Kobe, Nagoya, and Osaka, it became the first major US victory of the war. Japan was forced to divert troops and ships from the outward pushes back to defend the home islands. All of the bombers that participated in the raid safely made their way back to US control, except for two that were captured by the Japanese, and one that made a successful landing in the Soviet Union. The US had begun the war in the Pacific


	3. Chapter 3

**Headquarters Southwest Pacific Ocean Areas, SWPOA, Melbourne, Australia, 6, May, 1942**

Captain Robert Parks, USAAC, was trying to make sense of what had just happened. Thirty minutes ago he was in his office at the Army Air Corps field just outside of Melbourne. A Jeep with the insignia of an Army corporal came into his office and told him that he was need at headquarters, SWPOA in downtown Melbourne. The big Boeing B-17 had obliged the Jeep and followed him into town. When he arrived at the headquarters building, a former hotel that had been re-purposed for General MacArthur and his staff, he had been told the he was to report to one of the conference rooms on the ground floor. He sat inside the room for several minutes before he heard the voice of one of the sergeants bellow, "Ten-hut." Out of Pavlovian reflex Parks popped to attention. Not two minutes later General Douglas MacArthur, commander in chief of the southwest Pacific Ocean areas and the highest ranking officer currently in the Pacific theater, rolled into the room. He was wearing his customary washed soft khaki field cap, and had a long, black cigar in his mouth. "At ease Captain," he called. "Captain you are the highest ranking Air Corps officer in the are right now, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Thus you are in command of Air Corps forces in Australia at the moment, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Well then I believe that you are just the plane I wished to speak with."

"Begging the General's pardon, but what is it that you wished to discuss with me," Parks asked.

"I believe that Colonel Willoughby is in a better position to explain that. General." Captain Parks had been so focused on General MacArthur that he had not noticed that General Charles Willoughby, MacArthur's intelligence officer, was also in the room.

"Thank you General MacArthur. Captain we have received intelligence reports that a large Japanese task force is on its way to invade Port Moresby. A US navy task force under Admiral Fletcher is on its way to intercept the task force, but will not be in position to do much good until tomorrow. We need to delay the Japanese long enough to allow Admiral Fletcher's task force to move into position," Colonel Willoughby explained in a voice that had a light German accent.

"Sir, where are the Japanese now," Parks asked.

"We believe that they are somewhere in this region," Willoughby explained using a pointer to show the position on a map hanging from one of the room's walls. Parks looked at the map. Willoughby was indicating an expanse of ocean that was displayed to be the Coral Sea. Two hours later Captain Parks and the B-17's under his command were airborne and on their way towards the Coral Sea. When they finally found the Japanese fleet, they found that it was not only comprised of cruisers and destroyers but that their were also two aircraft carriers right in the middle. Parks' bombers did their best to damage ships in the enemy fleet, but, as always, high altitude bombing of enemy shipping is a very difficult task. From Parks' viewpoint two of the enemy destroyers had fires on their decks, and one of the cruisers was listing heavily to port. It wasn't significant damage to the enemy, but it was enough to slow their advance long enough for the USS _Lexington _and the USS _Yorktown _under Admiral Jack Fletcher to get close enough to launch their aircraft.

* * *

**USS _Lexington_, Coral Sea area, 8, May, 1942, 0400**

Ensign James Smith was scared. He had though about all of the day's possible outcomes, and most of them ended with him either floating in the middle of the Pacific, dead or very close to it. Later today he would help to attack forces of the Empire of Japan. He knew that most navy brass thought that the F4F was a comparable match for the Japanese A6M Zero, but he knew better. The Zero outclassed the Wildcat in all respects except ruggedness. Even though he was green, he had just graduated from Pensacola three weeks ago for goodness sakes, his instructors had told him that he was a first rate pilot.

He had wanted to fly as a fighter ever since induction day at the US Naval Academy in Annapolis Maryland. Some admiral or another had decided that the new plebes needed to see what they had gotten themselves into. Two weeks into his first summer, several different types of naval aviators had flown in and had put themselves on display right in the middle of Dalgren hall. Ever since Smith had laid his eyes on a brand new F4F Wildcat, he knew what he wanted to do. Smith had accepted an appointment ad a Piper J-3, so while he wasn't completely unfamiliar with flying, he still had a lot to learn.

He studied hard, and managed to graduate fifth in his class. Two weeks later we found himself on Chevalier field at the Pensacola Naval Air Station, Pensacola, Florida. There he began an even more strenuous regimen of training. He learned myriad facts about the F4F and its quirks and flight characteristics. He learned of the history of flight, and of the eight tactics of aerial combat as defined by Oscar Bolcke. They read as follows: 1, Try to secure the upper hand before attacking. If possible, keep the sun behind you. 2, Always continue with an attack once you have begun. 3, Open fire only at close range, and then only when the opponent is squarely in your sights. 4, You should always keep your eye on your opponent, and never let yourself be deceived by ruses. 5, In any attack, always approach from the unguarded six o'clock position. 6, If you opponent dives on you, do not try to get around his attack, but fly to meet it. 7, When over the enemy's lines, always remember your own lines of retreat. 8, If flying in a squadrons, it is better to attack in groups of four or six. Avoid two aircraft attacking the same opponent. While the rules were simple on paper, they were only that, rules. They only laid the foundations, it was up to the aviator to use them to make his own maneuvers.

Smith graduated from Pensacola at the head of his class as an F4F. He then revived his first duty station as a member of the fleet air arm squadron VF-2 on board the USS _Lexington_. There had been little for him to do while aboard the _Lex _and he had enjoyed a life of, relative, leisure, but that had all changed on December, 7. Now that the US was at war that meant that he had a lot to do. Every day at dawn the whole ship went to General Quarters, and for the last two moths she had be sortieing interdiction missions around the Japanese fighter base at Rabaul. Even though the ship had been flying combat missions for two weeks now, he had been assigned escort duty for the _Lex_'s SBDs, who managed to get lost and run out of fuel more times then they found their targets. Today would be the first time he would be put into a real fight. He was about to go through a Naval Aviators worst fear: a trial by fire.

"Flight Quarters! Flight Quarters! Set condition one throughout the ship. The smoking lamp is know out throughout the ship. I repeat the smoking lamp is now out throughout the ship. All planed report to your flight stations. I repeat all planes report to your flight stations. That is all," blared the ship's PA system, or 1MC. The time had come. He slowly hoisted himself off of the deck and made his way towards the flight deck elevator. When he had made his way onto the _Lex_'s flight deck all he could hear was the roar of aircraft engines. He felt a tap on his wing and looked over to see VF-2's squadron leader trying to get his attention.

"Stay close to me ensign. I'll keep you safe," he yelled over the cacophonous roar. Smith nodded his acknowledgment, then rolled behind him. Noise on the deck got even louder as the _Lex_ turned into the wind. The planes on the deck began to take to the skies one by one. Smith followed the squadron's CO into the dark morning sky.

Smith had never seen so many planes before in his life. The American squadrons consisted of hundreds of F4F Wildcats, SBD Dauntlesses, TBD Devastators, and F2A Buffaloes. Then they broke. Japanese A6M's dove out of the clouds firing furiously. Planes dove, climbed, banked, and did everything in their power to either get away or attack. Smith spotted a flight of SBDs trying to flee and made a hard decision. He broke from the fur-ball and followed the dive bombers. He formed up with them a little high and a little behind. Something flashed in his eye and he looked over his wing. Two other Wildcats had formed up on his wing. He nodded his thanks and gave a little waggle of his wings.

The flight of dive bombers, with their three fighter guardians, made its way towards the enemy fleet. Smith had to had it to the SBDs, even though they had successfully escaped from the still raging dogfight, they still attempted to carry out their missions. The formation flew along for a little while longer when the lead Dauntless nodded towards the water. Smith followed his gesture down to the deck and saw it. Down on the water was a single Japanese aircraft carrier, complete with a giant red meatball painted on its fo'c'sle. One by one the dive bombers tipped over hurtling towards their target at well over two hundred knots. Bombs were released and SBDs made their sickening five to ten gee pullout. Smith gave out a loud _Whoop_ as bombs struck the carrier. "That's for Pearl Harbor, you SOB's," he shouted as fireballs began to erupt on the ship. He would have continued his excited rantings had it not been for an ever diminishing fuel gauge. He broke from the other Wildcats and headed back towards the _Lexington_.

He almost didn't make it. As he approached the old carrier, his engine began to sputter and complain. Fortunately for him there was just enough gas left in his tank to catch the third cable on the old carrier. It took all of two minutes for the deck crew to rearm and refuel him. When he was ready to take off again he could hear the din of approaching engines. The moment he was airborne he banked around to see who it was. It was not what Smith had expected to see. Diving toward the _Lex_ were dozens of Japanese dive bombers. All he could do was watch as bombs struck the _Lexington_'s deck. Smith watched as the once proud carrier began to list sharply to port. He was certain of one thing, he wasn't going to be returning to the _Lexington_. When he looked over at the _Yorktown _he saw that she had not escaped the attack unscathed. Smoke was pouring out of a rather large hole in her flight deck. Smith was in trouble, the only to places that he could land at out here were out of commission. He had to think, "Where else can I land out here. Port Moresby is probably under attack, and I don't think I could find Espiritu Santo. Then I guess I'm going to Australia." Smith banked around and headed south, towards Australia.

* * *

**A/N: **A little bit of canon info here. In the first _Cars_ movie there is a deleted scene where Lightning McQueen wakes up as a road paver. Now I don't know if this is canon or not, but it makes this type of story a lot easier to write. I am assuming that cars, and further planes, can be put into new bodies. This allows for civilians to become military vehicles, and for military vehicles to be updated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Melbourne, Australia, 8, May, 1550**

Ensign James Smith did not currently depict an exemplary model of an officer and gentleman in the United States Navy. His eyes were red and bleary, and his once spotless paint was streaked with grease and grime. He had just flown, non-stop, for about eight hours, pausing only to set down at small airfields along the Australian coast to take on fuel. When he finally spotted the small airstrip outside of Melbourne, he almost wept with joy.

When he was on the ground and stopped completely a large B-17 wearing the insignia of an Army Air Corps Captain came out of a large hanger and rolled over to him. "Congratulations ensign, you just made the longest single day base transit of all time."

"Thank you sir."

"Is there anything I can get you ensign?" the AAC B-17 asked.

"With respect sir, all that I want right now is a spot in a wash rack, a good meal, and a place to sleep."

The B-17 chuckled before replying, "Well that's certainly understandable. I'll have my sargent show you where the wash racks are. Oh, and one other thing. I just got a message from SWPOA, you are to report at you earliest convenience to a Captain Pickering in Melbourne. Apparently he's the highest ranking Navy officer in Australia at the moment, and might be able to do something about getting you back to pearl."

"Is there anything else, sir?" Smith asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is. Would you be willing to brief me and my officers on what exactly happened today?"

"I see no problem with that sir," Smith replied.

"Very well then, carry on ensign," the B-17 said, motioning over a Jeep painted with sargents stripes. "Take the Ensign here to the wash racks," The B-17 told the Jeep. The Jeep nodded his understanding, then gestured for Smith to follow him.

* * *

**HQSWPOA, Melbourne, Australia, 9, May, 1220**

"So, ensign, Do you have anything else to say on the matter?" asked Captain Fleming Pickering USNR, a middle aged Packard sedan.

"No sir, I don't," Smith replied. For the last two hours Smith had been briefing Captain Pickering on the event that he had witnessed over the last several days.

"Well if that's all you have to tell me, then I think I need to start working on your problem. Do you have a place to stay?"

"Sir I've been put up in the transient bachelors officer's quarters," Smith replied.

"Well ensign here's what we're going to do to fix that. I have a house, a rather large house, just outside of Melbourne. I would be more than happy to let you stay there for the few days it takes to sort this mess out. We naval officers must look out for one another," Pickering explained.

"Yes sir, I would be happy to."

"Good, then give me enough time to finish my business here and I'll take you out there. Do you need any money?" Pickering asked.

"Sir my records jacket was destroyed when the _Lexington _went down, but I was able to draw a partial pay when I registered for the BOQ," Smith answered.

"Okay then, I hear that there is a really good bar not twenty blocks from here. I'll meet you there in half an hour," Pickering announced.

"Yes sir. Good day sir," Smith said as he turned to leave.

* * *

Eyes only Frank Knox, Secretary of the Navy

By direction Captain David Houton

Duplication Forbidden

Classification: Top Secret Magic

Message dated: 9, May, 1942

Dear Frank,

I just had the opportunity to have a little chat with a navy flier who was on board the _Lexington _just before he went down on 8, May. In fact this flier witnessed the attack that crippled the _Lexington_. Apparently right after he saw the attack take place and the the _Yorktown_'s damaged flight deck, he decided that the best thing for him to do would be to fly to SWPOA in Melbourne. A journey of about a thousand hundred miles. He told me that he landed several times at small personal airstrips along the Australian coast, and managed to take on gas from the generosity of the Australians running the airstrips. I'm writing this message to you to ask a favor. This flier wished to go back to the war, and while I'm perfectly sure I could make use of him out here, he needs transport to Espiritu Santo or better still Pearl. Let me know if an where you can arrange things.

Your friend,

Fleming Pickering, Captain, USNR

End special channel personal for the Secretary of the Navy.

* * *

**SS _Pacific Princess_, Pacific Ocean near Oahu, 12, May, 1942, 1230**

Ensign James Smith had been through a lot over the past week. Captain Pickering's had somehow managed to book him passage on a passenger liner that was running officers and supplies back and forth from Australia to Hawaii. It was a rather luxurious ship and it had several cabins that had been designed to hold aircraft. It was one of the few times when Smith had not been cramped aboard a ship. Altogether it had been a rather pleasant trip, but now, as the ship was nearing Pearl Harbor, Smith was sitting on the deck watching as the deck crew prepared to bring the large ship into its berth. Twenty minutes later Smith was slowly making his way down the narrow gangplank. "Ensign Smith," he heard a voice call when he reached the bottom. He searched for the owner of the voice and found another F4F painted in the livery of the USS _Enterprise_'s air wing.

"Yes sir, that's me," he replied.

"My name is Lieutenant John Morely, I'm part of the Big _E_'s air wing. I was told that you will be joining our little family, so come with me so that we can begin the arduous task of filing paperwork."

"Yes, sir," Smith replied as he followed Morely off the pier. Morely led him down the docks towards the large aircraft carrier that could only be the _Enterprise_. They made their way towards its dextended gangplank. Pulling onto the deck Smith saw an older F4F wearing the silver oak leaves of a full Commander. He immediately stopped and came to attention and let the years of naval tradition catch up with him.

"Permission to come aboard, sir."

"Granted," the commander replied, gruffly. Smith turned from the commander and saluted the ship's colors. "Welcome aboard ensign, my name is Commander Felts, and I am the air wing commander on this boat so you report to me."

"Yes sir, by your leave sir?" Smith asked. Commander Felts moved his wing signifying that Smith was allowed to leave.

"Come on Smith let's go see the personnel officer then I'll buy you a drink. I happen to know of some really good bars in town," Morely told Smith when Felts had left.

"Thank you lieutenant," Smith replied.

* * *

**USS _Enterprise_, 5, June 1941, Northwest of Midway Island, 0450**

"General quarters, general quarters. Man your battle stations, man your battle stations. All flight crews report to the flight deck," blared the 1MC speaker and was accompanied by alarm klaxons. Lieutenant John Morely instantly popped awake and looked around the room. The other planes in the hanger bay were waking up and preparing for flight. He was surprised to see that Smith was already awake and was ready for combat. "He's probably the only one in this room who has actually seen real combat," Morely thought. "Hey, Smith," he called, "Why don't we stick together on this one." Smith, a newly minted lieutenant(junior grade), nodded his approval.

"Sounds like a good plan to me, Morely," he replied. The two fighters made their way out of the hanger and up onto the deck.

"Lieutenant Morely," a familiar voice called. Morely looked towards the source of the voice to see Commander Felts. "I want you and Smith to run escort for one of the SBD squadrons," he ordered.

"Sir, may I ask you why we're babysitting the bombers?" Smith asked.

"Because if the Pearl G-2 is right then this is the big one," Felts explained, "There could be as many as four Jap carriers out there, and if there are then we need every dive bomber that we can get."

Smith and Morely look at each other then replied in unison, "Aye aye sir."

"Good, now that's settled, go find the commander of the SBD squadron and tell him that I sent you to make sure his bombers aren't swatted from the sky."

"Aye aye sir," they repeated.

"Very well, dismissed." The two fighters began to wade through the crowd of planes and cars on the deck preparing to launch for a combat mission.

* * *

**USS _Enterprise, _05, May, 1941, 1831**

"I think I can see her, straight ahead, real distant. Yep that's her."

"My isn't she a sight for sore eyes."

"I don't think that she has ever looked more beautiful."

"Do you want to try and get landing clearance while I try to herd the bombers?"

"Roger that," Morely acknowledged Smith's request. It had been a long day. They had been flying almost nonstop since the 0500. Shortly after they had launched from the _Enterprise _they received news that the Marine fighter squadron on Midway island had engaged Japanese forces. One hour later they received news that a PBY Catalina patrol had spotted Japanese ships, and that there were at least three, and probably four, aircraft carriers in the center of the formation. A squadron of old TDB Devastator torpedo bombers had made the first attack. They were promptly cut to ribbons. All but one of the old, slow planes had been shot down. But it turned into a blessing in disguise. When the dive bomber squadron finally found the Japanese carrier it was in the process of rearming its planes. The decks were covered in ordnance and fuel. When the bombers left, two of the carriers were ablaze and listing significantly, and a third was afire. The strike had been so sudden and so devastating that the Japanese had yet to launch a retaliatory strike. Smith and Morely had not been engaged or attacked since they had left the area where the Japanese were, and had made a return trip back to the _Enterprise_.

Almost the minute that their wheels touched down on the _Enterprise_'s deck Commander Felts old them that they had been ordered to stand down. He told them that while they were on their way back to the _Enterprise_ bombers from the _Hornet _and _Yorktown_ had struck the Japanese carriers for a second time, confirming two Japanese carriers sunk. Then the Japanese counterattacked; dive and torpedo bombers attacked the _Yorktown_, mortally wounding her. Even with the loss of the _Yorktown_ today was a major victory for the United States. Three Japanese carriers were now lying on the bottom, and the main Japanese advance had been turned back, halting all further conquest of the Pacific.

* * *

**A/N:**I started this story with the intention of keeping events as close to history as I possibly could. Then I realized that as long as it's a good story, very few people care. (That's also the reason I did the body transfer thing, because it makes things easier to explain) So I am going to stop worrying about historical accuracy and focus on writing a story. Oh and I haven't done one of these in a while so,

**Disclaimer:**Cars belongs to Disney, General Fleming Pickering, Major Kenneth "Killer" McCoy, and Major Malcolm "Pick" Pickering belong to W.E.B. Griffin's Corps series. All other charters are of my creation and should bear no resemblance to other characters, real or fictitious.

**2ND A/N: **I apologize for all the typos that keep appearing in my works. The laptop where I write these stories has a keyboard with at least ten broken keys. So I have to use an external keyboard that is unable to keep up with my typing. I will try to fix errors as I find them.


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